


Healing

by SuperNerd92



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Fix-It, Force Bond (Star Wars), Fuck Canon, I'm mostly mad about TROS, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, They're definitely force married though, This won't be that sexy, except Papa Palps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperNerd92/pseuds/SuperNerd92
Summary: The Force Bond between Rey, the last Jedi, and Supreme Leader Kylo Ren is growing stronger than ever, even as the final battle between the Resistance and the First Order is set to begin...A "what-if" / "fix-it" scenario for Episode IX where Kylo Ren / Ben Solo makes it out okay. It is more of a sequel to "The Last Jedi" than an adaptation of "the Rise of Skywalker," but I will still be using a few ideas presented in TROS.
Relationships: Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 34
Kudos: 258





	1. Chapter 1

The Resistance base on Ajan Kloss had started as just another hideaway, where the rebels took temporary shelter from the relentless First Order forces. As time passed, though, and the searching Star Destroyers continued to be tricked by the countermeasures, the place was developing into a real home base of operations. And with that came crowded corridors in the tiny jungle base. 

“We could’ve used all these people on Crait,” Poe muttered as he pushed his way through a dozen aliens of a dozen different species, whose important business apparently demanded they stand talking in the center of the hallway. 

“They thought it was suicide, then. Luke showed them it wasn’t,” Finn said, out of some instinctual desire to be fair. He knew just how hard it was to stand up to the First Order’s overwhelming might. 

“They could at least hit the ‘fresher more often,” Poe said, wrinkling his nose. Then, with a sigh of relief, they were out in the open jungle. 

Rey and General Leia were spending more and more time sequestered under these trees, talking about the Force and other things Poe didn’t understand. It was obviously critical, but there was so much to be done to build their forces back up. A flood of volunteers was nice, but they needed organization, outfitting, training - heavy tasks that increasingly fell to Poe as Leia’s second-in-command, increasing his restlessness and frustration. 

And Finn could  _ feel  _ that frustration, flowing out of his friend like a wave. He’d spent enough time around Rey and Leia to guess at the implications of that, but every time he thought about confessing, he could talk himself out of it. They were too busy. Poe needed his help, and besides, it would just distract Leia from teaching Rey. 

Poe’s frustration was soon exceeded by a person in the clearing up ahead. Finn winced. He knew before he and Poe stepped up to Rey and Leia that the saber was still broken. 

“You’d think the collected sacred texts of the Jedi Order would have more to say about something so basic,” Rey said, tossing the two halves down in frustration. 

“The way Luke explained it, those crystals are alive,” Leia said, putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “We’re not fixing it, we’re  _ healing  _ it. It sounds simple, but this won’t be an easy process.” 

“We can’t waste more time trying,” Rey said, meeting Poe’s gaze. “They need me.” 

“That  _ is  _ why I’m here,” he admitted. “It’s time to start striking back and you’re a Jedi. That makes you our best fighter.” 

Finn glanced at the broken saber, but Rey seemed to anticipate his objection. “Master Luke’s own lightsaber is back on Ach-to. If I go back and get it, I’ll have a weapon and can start helping again.” 

Leia’s reluctance was palpable even without his peculiar new ability to feel it, but to Finn’s surprise, she nodded. “You should stay here and fix yours; however, I know better than to try and stop you. Go. Just be careful. I don’t want to lose you.” 

The unspoken  _ too  _ lingered in the air between them and even Poe looked uncomfortable. Her son, her husband, her only brother -- all lost in different ways, but here she was, still fighting for the sake of the galaxy. 

“I’ll be back soon,” Rey promised. A brief hug for each of them, a ‘may the Force be with you,’ and-

Poe grabbed her arm before she could run off. “Whoa, you’re not thinking of going back there alone, are you? This is beyond our feelings, Rey. The Resistance needs you for morale.”

“He’s right,” Finn agreed. “I’ll come with you. Poe needs to be here to-”

Rey jabbed him in the chest with one finger. “Poe needs you here. Leia told me how much responsibility you’ve taken. I’ll be faster alone.” 

Before Finn could pick his jaw off the ground, she was gone, moving quickly towards the prone  _ Falcon _ with purposeful strides. 

“You don’t need a lightsaber to do some good with the Force,” Leia said, her eyes boring into Finn’s. He bit his lip, wondering if she could somehow tell. 

“She needs it to fight, though, and we’ll be doing a lot of fighting soon,” Poe said, the subtext sailing straight over his head. He launched into the logistics of a dozen worlds’ recruits, and Finn let the words fade into the background. He was preoccupied, watching the  _ Falcon  _ take off… and trying to fight the sensation that something terrible was about to happen to Rey. 

* * *

General Hux stood at the head of the flagship’s conference room, outlining the state of the First Order’s supply lines for the continued invasion of the Core Worlds. The new Supreme Leader was in attendance, but his face was as blank as if he’d been wearing that old mask. Even as Hux glanced at him, though, that bored expression suddenly tensed. He cocked his head as if he was listening to something from very far away. 

Abruptly, Ren stood, with enough force to slam his chair back into the wall. He either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, that Hux was mid-sentence. “I’m leaving.” 

“Supreme Leader, we are in the middle of planning our final offensive that will crush any resistance--” Hux started to complain but thought better of it when Ren began the gesture that would crush the breath from his lungs. “--And we’ll carry it out, of course.” 

“Have someone prepare my ship,” Ren barked at him, as if he were a mere Stormtrooper instead of the General of the navy, and stalked out. 

Hux could hear his subordinates, some trying and failing to hide their laughter, others so unafraid of him, now, that they didn’t even try. The humiliation! Snoke hadn’t been an easy master, but he’d rewarded Hux’s drive and competence. Ren, however, loathed him, and evidently took great pleasure in undercutting him at the slightest opportunity. 

_ “You won’t have to deal with him for long _ ,” the voice whispered in the back of his mind. When it had appeared after Snoke’s death, Hux was convinced he’d gone mad, but the voice had quickly explained who and what it was. Everything fell into place.

_ “His feelings for the girl distract him. He won’t even notice when you have him followed. Now, do it the way I told you...”  _

“We can’t let the Supreme Leader endanger himself unnecessarily,” Hux said, lying smoothly to the assembled admirals and generals. “Continue our preparations. I will arrange an escort for his protection.” 

_ “We will destroy this pretender to the mantle of the Sith and the last of the Jedi in one fell swoop,”  _ the voice gloated, as Hux marched down the corridor to the Destroyer’s bridge.  _ “Then, I will find a  _ proper  _ vessel and restore the full measure of my strength. Nothing will stand in our way.”  _

Deep down, some part of Hux recoiled at the casual dismissal of his ‘not proper’ body and soul, wondering what would happen to it - him - when his visitor had a more suitable ‘vessel.’ But he felt his mouth split open in a wide, insane grin, and heard his voice, dreamy and almost sing-song, answer for him. 

“I look forward to that day… my Emperor.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Ach-to was just as quiet and peaceful as when she’d left it, but the landscape wasn’t quite as unspoiled. The hut where she’d lived for those few days was a shattered pile of rubble, still. From the air, Rey could see that the industrious island caretakers had begun to repair it, but it hadn’t been long enough to make a difference. 

As she began her descent in the _Falcon_ , a sudden instinct screamed at her that she shouldn’t park the ship in the place she’d used before. It was too open to the air, too exposed. She didn’t sense any active threat, but for all she knew, a First Order scout ship could randomly fly by and see it on their scanners. The Force wasn’t warning her for no reason. So she climbed back into the air, circled to the uninhabited side of the island, and landed the Falcon under a jut of rock that would shield it from sight. 

It was a long hike back to Luke’s hut from that spot, but it gave her time to clear her mind and reflect. The broken saber had been a uniquely frustrating experience. She’d been fixing things her whole life, she was _good_ at fixing things, but the sundered crystal wasn’t another droid or ship. As Leia had said, it was a living thing, one that she struggled to connect with. 

Well, she’d have plenty of time for that after the fighting was over. For now, Luke’s old saber would be her weapon. 

Rey slid the piece of the X-wing that had become the door to his hut out of the way and stepped inside, ducking her head under the low ceiling. The saber was right where she’d seen it last. Luke hadn’t tossed it aside quite as cavalierly as his father’s blade, but it sat on a little plinth, and he clearly hadn’t touched it in the six years since. She brushed a thin layer of dust away from the hilt and picked it up. 

At that moment, a TIE fighter’s engines screamed overhead. It was flying so low to the ground that the stones making up the hut wall quivered under the impact of its engines. Rey rushed outside, her stomach lurching as the Force Bond told her exactly who the pilot was, even before she spotted his face in the cockpit. 

Kylo Ren had followed her here. Of course - he’d used their connection and followed it, like a Force-driven tracking beacon. She’d rushed off without even considering the fact that he might have overcome its earlier limitations, that she was walking straight into danger without any backup. 

The TIE banked into a smooth landing, mere meters away from her. She ignited Luke’s saber as Kylo swung out of the ship, pointing the green blade in his direction.

“Get back.” 

He didn’t stop walking towards her, but his hands were steady at his sides, making no move to ignite his own saber. “I’m not here to kill you, Rey.” 

“Changed your tune from Crait?” she jeered with more bravado than she felt. “Me, the Resistance, your own _mother_ \--” 

Kylo stopped, staring at her. “She’s… alive?” 

If not for the Force Bond, she might have thought it another manipulation, but his genuine shock made it through. “No thanks to you. They told me _you_ blew up the bridge.” 

“I didn’t fire,” he said quietly. Again, the absolute truth of it astounded her. “The TIEs with me did, and I… I thought she was dead. I felt it. At least… I thought.” 

“That’s the problem, isn’t it? Starkiller Base, all the rest of it. It doesn’t matter if you regret it. You made it happen and you command the people who did it.” She shifted her weight, ready to strike. Still, he refused to react… which only served to anger her more. 

“Yes, I am the Supreme Leader. Once this war is over, we can--” 

“Spare me the recruitment speech. I won’t betray my friends.” 

“The First Order _will_ crush what little is left of the Resistance. I don’t want you to be one of the victims.” 

Unspoken, but oozing from the bond, was why he didn’t want that. How he’d come to feel about her. A selfish, possessive kind of affection. That was why he’d come here, to try to shove her aside and keep her safe, like some fragile doll. 

Rey shook her head. “I’m leaving and I _will_ be rejoining the fight. Get out of my way.” 

Kylo activated his saber, then, taking a defensive posture and blocking her path back down the mountain. “No.” 

If it was hate or anger that caused him to stand there, Rey might have stopped to balance herself. But the patronizing, twisted concern for her best interests was too much. She lunged forward, as angry as she’d ever been in a fight, heedless of Luke’s old warnings about how quickly she’d embraced the dark side. 

It was the same anger that had fueled her on the surface of Starkiller Base, but whereas that had allowed her to dispatch him quickly, this fight was different. Kylo was purely on the defensive. He wasn’t toying with her - it was taking all his concentration and effort to fend off her aggressive strikes - but he was calm, controlling the engagement. 

“Back then, I was weak and conflicted, fighting for someone else’s cause,” Kylo said, answering her very thoughts aloud. “Now? I’ve never been more certain of anything.” 

“Get out of my head!” Rey drew back to stab him, but he bore forward, pinning her saber’s hilt beneath his crossguard. He overpowered her, forcing her to drop the weapon, lest the perpendicular vents burn through her hand. Then, instead of pressing his advantage, he stepped back, clearly certain that the duel was over. 

Then several things happened at once. 

For Rey, the duel was very much _not_ over and she grabbed for the hilt of his saber. To her own surprise, the weapon had gone slack in his hand. Kylo wasn’t even looking at her, but staring up into the sky above them. 

“Hux? No, not just Hux. There’s a whole other… presence...” He swiveled back to Rey, and his eyes went wide. “Wait, _don’t_ \--” 

Heedless, furious, she drove Kylo’s own saber into his gut. A brief moment of fierce joy was immediately undercut as she felt a saber slashing through her own stomach. She stared down, utterly confused, looking for the physical attack, but seeing none.

“The bond,” Kylo choked, and she understood at once. Any damage done to one of them would carry through it to the other. Rey collapsed in time with him, realizing she might have just killed them both. 

What was worse, they weren’t alone. A massive Star Destroyer blanked out the sky above them, and its large turbolasers were pointed right at the island. 

_He’s going to kill us both_ , Kylo said, but she heard it directly within her mind. _We have to… get out of here…_

But thanks to _her,_ the best they seemed able to muster was a slow, painful crawl towards Kylo’s TIE, many meters away from them.

Too many meters. Before they’d done halfway, the Destroyer opened fire.

* * *

Hux stood at the bridge of the ship, hands crossed behind his back. The Destroyer’s crew hadn’t been enthusiastic about the prospect of assassinating their own Supreme Leader, but the voice, the _presence_ within him booked no argument. Their objections died on their lips and washed away. 

“Is it done?” he asked, peering down at the ruined island. Once before, on Crait, he’d seen the Force let Luke Skywalker survive something that should have killed him a hundred times over. He’d take no chances this time.

 _“It is done,”_ the voice confirmed. _“Nothing on that island yet lives.”_

Hux smirked, turning to face his crew. “The Supreme Leader is dead.”

“Long live the Supreme Leader,” his crew echoed. The fear in their eyes as they stumbled over the words warmed his heart, and sent the _presence_ into a paroxysm of cackling laughter. 

Yes, all had gone according to plan. Kylo Ren was dead. The last Jedi was dead. Now all that was left was crushing the Resistance, once and for all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Force Bonds are cool as shit. The Dyad was one of the TROS concepts I liked, but I'm borrowing more from KOTOR 2's conception of how bonds work for this fic.


	3. Chapter 3

The turbolasers shattered the cliff ahead of them, sending chunks of rock spinning down to crush the TIE. It tipped over, its metal carriage twisted and broken by the constant barrage. Kylo stopped crawling towards it, despair washing through him.

It was all for nothing. Hux and that all-too-familiar dark presence inside of him -- were about to take his life… and, even worse, _Rey’s_ life. 

Desperation gave him an unexpected strength. Powering through the pain of his injury, and before she could object, he threw himself on top of her, covering her body with his own. Odds were Hux’s turbolasers would blow the entire island apart, but if there was the slimmest hope that one of them could make it out of here, it needed to be her.

He felt her indignation through the bond, but couldn’t parse out the mental words that accompanied it. That last effort had been everything he had left. Darkness dropped over his vision, and he knew no more. 

* * *

It was the pain that woke him.

After an initial, animal whine, Kylo remembered that pain wasn’t all bad. Pain meant that somehow, against all odds, he was still alive.

His eyes snapped open as he began to remember exactly where he was and what had happened. Rey… had it worked? Was she--

_I’m fine. Get off me._

He blinked down, and, as more sensation returned, realized he was still pinning her to the ground under him. She looked more annoyed than hurt, and when he failed to move quickly enough, snapped one of her knees up between his legs. He grunted, flopping to one side and off of her.

 _Sorry._ The mental link was stronger than ever, and far less painful than trying to talk aloud. 

_You should be. All you did with that stunt was knock yourself out. Which knocked_ me _out._

Kylo stared around them. Debris and destruction littered the island, but a ten foot sphere was completely, unnaturally, free of any of it. It was as if someone had placed a giant durasteel dome over their heads as the lasers fired. He reached out with the Force, but couldn’t feel any hint of life on the whole island. Not even the natives had survived the attack. 

_So that wasn’t you._

Rey sat up, clutching her stomach. She stared down at her clothing, but it was stained by only dirt, no blood in sight. She pulled up the bottom of her shirt and stared at the jagged, round scar. Confused frustration flooded their bond and she jerked the fabric back down. _I was unconscious._ Her mind rumbled with a blur of expletives in different languages. 

_Then who?_

_Doesn’t matter._ Her mind skipped ahead to practical things. _You still have a hole in your torso._

_The only medpacks I have are on the TIE. Buried under rocks._

She rolled her eyes. _You forgot how to do a healing trance?_

Gingerly, Kylo touched the charred edge of his wound. At least it was cauterized and not bleeding, though he could picture anatomy diagrams and worried for his organs. It probably wouldn’t be wise to try to eat or drink until he was patched up. He felt a mental prod and realized Rey was still waiting for an answer. _I can’t. Not since- Not anymore._

Irritation colored Rey’s understanding. _Fine. Comms?_

_On the ship._

_All my supplies are on the_ Falcon _, but it’s on the other side of the island._

_I wondered where your ship was._

_Some instinct warned me to hide it instead of landing in the open. Could have been more specific._

_This was meant to happen. There are no coincidences in the Force._ A memory tugged at him. That phrase came from Luke, one of his earliest lessons. He hastily shoved the thought back down. 

_What?_ It didn’t take her long to cut through his resistance and read his memory. A child, sent to his uncle, because he was already losing control with the Force. His tantrums would wreck furniture. His parents feared him, hated him, wanted to be rid of him. 

Rey frowned. Her mind supplied a flood of images of his family, too clear and too painful to watch. _They didn’t. Why would you think that?_

He pulled at his mental defenses, as if they could protect him from a voice that came from inside. _It doesn’t matter._

_It does. I can hear… a voice, telling you they hate you. Lying to you._

_It doesn’t_ matter _. I still did those things. I can’t… how can I ever face her again?_

Rey groaned, but chose not to push him. _Stay still. I’ll see if there’s a stimpack in the TIE’s wreckage._

_You’re hurt._

_I’ve scavenged with worse. And it’s not even a Destroyer._

She withdrew from his mind, whatever shielding she’d learned more effective than his own. It was for the best. What he knew of her past life made what was left of his stomach churn with vague guilt. _I came here to save her and I’ve only made things worse._

Kylo fell asleep with more than his own thoughts haunting him.

* * *

The next day, Rey took visible pleasure in waiting for him to wake up before jabbing him with the stimpack. It burned as his organs tried to repair themselves around the burn scarring. _I shouldn’t be alive._

 _No, you shouldn’t be._ Her words cracked like a whip in his mind.

_I deserved that._

She didn’t answer. Instead, she said, _Tell me about the voice._

_I keep telling you, it doesn’t matter._

_I_ knew _Han, and Leia’s been teaching me for weeks. I’m not going to let you slander them._

_Solo is dead. I killed him._

_And if you felt any real guilt, you’d cooperate._ Rey waved her arms at the destruction that surrounded them. _You caused this, the death of an entire race, for what? A pathetic attempt to save_ me? _What do you think is going to happen if you can’t convince me to stop fighting?_

Kylo looked away from her, as if that could weaken the strength of her words in his head. _It was the voice of… My grandfather. Vader. He was always with me. Even when I was a child._

 _Your_ grandfather _was the one telling you your own parents hated you?_

_He didn’t say that, he said… I was too strong. They wouldn’t understand, and people fear what they don’t understand._

_That voice sounds evil, Ben. It_ feels _evil. That’s not how Luke described his father._

 _Luke doesn’t know anything._ Coupled with the knife that was his birth name, the mere mention of his uncle’s name brought more unpleasant memories. That night, standing over him with the saber. The confrontation on Crait, humiliated in front of his troops. Doubtless that had emboldened Hux to strike against him, and here he was, broken and forgotten. 

He tore his mind away from hers.

* * *

The next day she dropped a much-abused canteen directly on his wound. Kylo curled around it, pressing his face into the rough ground as he used the Force to keep his bile where it belonged.

 _I’ve figured out where I_ felt _that voice before._ She was persistent, if nothing else, and shutting her out would take too much effort. 

_Not this again._ He pushed himself to his knees, weakness making his arms shake. After much struggle, he opened the canteen. Before he could drink, he felt her holding his hands still with the Force. _What?_

_Sip, don’t drink._

_What?_

_You’re severely dehydrated. Sip._ She waited for him to sip, _sip,_ from the canteen and then rushed forward like an enraged dewback. _The voice_ feels _exactly like Snoke. He was manipulating you as a child. Making you_ think _it was your grandfather, when it was really…_

Anger filled him, and the rubble around him shook with the force of it. He was gaining some strength back, slowly, very slowly. _That’s what_ she _thought. That’s why she sent Solo--_

_Your father._

_\--Solo out to confront me. She thought I was some victim, that he could ask me to come home and it would all be better. I’m_ not _a victim and it will NEVER. BE. BETTER._

She slapped him across the face, her own as emotionless and stony as a Jedi’s should be. _Grow up_ , her mind replied coolly. _You’ve made your choices, killed_ plenty _of people all on your own, but someone was behind you, pushing--_

“It changes nothing!” He shouted, but his voice was weak and cracked. He took another begrudging sip from the canteen and glared until she walked away.

* * *

Rey disappeared for a full day. He felt her, on and off, in the Force, but she didn’t reach out through their connection. An echo of the voice, his own bitterness and self-loathing, told him that if she had any sense she was abandoning him.

At sunset and without a word, she handed him a crumpled package of travel rations. Something inside of him, the heart he’d thought long destroyed, cracked. _...My father never did pack decent provisions._

 _Oh, you’re talking to me now?_ She sat several meters away, trying to start a fire with a few salt-crusted pieces of driftwood.

 _If that voice was Snoke… If my mother was right…_ He winced at Rey’s scoff. _Just listen. If that voice was Snoke, he isn’t dead._

He heard her drop the wood. _What do you mean? We saw him die. We_ felt _him die. Master Luke said only a Jedi can return after death._

_I believe he did die. But some remnant of him… I think it’s the same thing that I sensed in Hux, right before he opened fire on us._

_How is that even possible?_

He tapped the rock-hard ration on the ground. _If Snoke was never Snoke… Then that wounded body was just the best that_ something else _could hide inside of. Something much older, and very, very evil. There are plenty of legends about Sith possessing the bodies of others. I remember reading them_ now, _but the memories are hard to grasp. I think your mental defenses are what’s allowing me to remember them._

_So you think--_

_The voice of Vader, the thing inside Hux… rebuilding the First Order in the image of the Empire… there’s only one possible explanation. He didn’t die on the Death Star. He’s back._ The _Emperor._

He could feel Rey’s mind consider the concept, reject it, and focus on a much easier thing: the details. _If that’s true, how are we still alive? Hux… or whatever he is now… would’ve sensed that he hadn’t finished us off._

“That was me,” a voice said from behind him. A very familiar voice. Kylo spun and his mouth dropped open as he saw the transparent image of his uncle Luke, a smug grin plastered on his ghostly face. “You’re welcome, kids.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the core of the idea I had for this fic - create circumstances that force Rey and Kylo to spend a lot of time together working through all their issues. I couldn't have pulled it off without TK, who really helped with all the dialogue and the flow of events over those 5 days. If you like Star Wars, check out her ongoing Mandalorian (TV) fic: [Brightly Burning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21910915).


	4. Chapter 4

“You’re saying that you saved us, _and_ stopped Palpatine from realizing what you’d done? Even though you...” Rey gestured at the blue light form of Luke. “Died.”

“Obi-wan taught me how to temporarily return from the Living Force, just as his master once taught him. When he appeared to me, he could only speak, not intervene.” Luke’s grin melted from his face, replaced by a pensive look. “But the Emperor cheated death. The balance is broken. I am the instrument of Force itself, acting against him.” 

Happy as she was to see her old master again, Rey could feel the unease and fear through the bond. Kylo’s pace was drawn and pale. He looked, well, like he’d seen a ghost, and couldn’t decide if he wanted to fight or flee.

Luke sighed as he regarded his nephew. “I’ve also spoken to your mother. She just wants you to come home.”

Kylo clambered to his feet, his movements stiff and painful. “Leave me alone!”

“I’m sorry, Ben. You never told me, but I should have paid more attention, noticed that voice inside your head.” 

“Instead, you tried to kill me,” he sneered. “It’s too late.” 

“It’s never too late.” 

Kylo thrust out his hand, throwing raw force at Luke. The spirit just stood there, not so much as a hair on his head affected. Snarling in frustration, he stomped away from the clearing, the effect slightly comical due to how much his wound still hampered him. 

Rey watched him go, her eyes narrowed. Sympathy warred with distaste, a tangled web of emotions somewhere in her chest. The naive girl who had run to the _Supremacy_ to ask Ben Solo to save them felt like something from another lifetime, but her hope wasn’t completely gone, even now. 

Luke sighed again and settled down in front of her, cross-legged. Surely an affectation since he didn’t _actually_ have a body, but it felt comforting, and familiar. 

“You feel troubled, Rey.” 

“Before you… arrived… we fought each other. And I was _so_ angry. I almost killed him, which probably would’ve killed us both.” She shook her head. “I ran straight to the dark side. Exactly what you were afraid of.” 

“No Jedi is perfect. It’s a constant struggle against our own worst impulses. I wasn’t perfect, and no more worthy of the mantle of ‘the last Jedi’ than you were.” He smiled wistfully, as if at a distant memory. “I was headstrong, hot-tempered, reckless. But the Force worked through me, as it works through you.” 

“You defeated the Emperor. The last of the Sith. How?” 

“I refused to strike him down.” 

She blinked at him. “You won by… not winning?” 

“I ‘won’ because he didn’t understand the most powerful force in the universe. Love. My father still loved me, and couldn’t bear to let his master kill me. Twenty years of being broken, of despairing, of giving up. But his love saved him, and saved me.” 

“But it didn’t last. Palpatine is back.” 

“He did die,” Luke said. “I don’t know how he came back. But he’s a shadow of what he was, a parasite, desperately holding on past his time. The Force itself will sweep him away, with you as its champion.” 

“I don’t know if I’m ready.” 

“If the Force waited until we were ready, being a Jedi would be easy.” 

* * *

Kylo limped away, wanting nothing more than to put distance between himself and the specter of his uncle. Rey was obviously happy to see Luke, which just served to make him more angry. 

_I’ve failed you, Ben_ , Luke had said on Crait. Standing there and admitting he’d been wrong did nothing but salt the wound he’d cut open that night at the old Temple. Now he was back again, with more platitudes. Telling him to just go home as if nothing had happened, the way Rey had. 

That night, the temple had exploded, burned to the ground. He, Kylo, hadn’t done it, but of course the padawans that had been off-world assumed that he had, didn’t believe that he’d had nothing to do with it. He’d had nowhere to go… except to Snoke. 

Which had been exactly what Snoke - no, the Emperor - had wanted, of course. 

No. It didn’t matter. The start of it all might have been a trick, but he’d done terrible things for the First Order. He was forever stained by the darkness. He could never return. 

“How arrogant,” a voice rumbled from behind him. A voice, modulated by a mask, accompanied by a sharp intake of artificial breath.

Vader. The false voice that had haunted him for so long. 

“You’re not real,” he snarled, whirling around, fully expecting to see nothing, like every other time he’d talked back to the voice. 

But Vader stood there, looming in his black armor. A subtle blue glow played at the edges of the armor, the end of the long cape. The mask was pointed straight at Kylo’s face, and he knew, instantly, that this was not an illusion. It was the real thing. 

“Yes, Darth Vader. The powerful warrior you worshiped, wanted so badly to emulate.” His grandfather reached a gloved hand and touched his own mask, then tore it free from his face in a sudden, violent motion. 

The face beneath… was young. Younger than Kylo himself. He could see the family resemblance, though, in the shape of the face, and especially the eyes, which held the same flinty resolve he’d so often seen in his mother’s. 

“Being Darth Vader was the worst time of my life. I was a walking corpse, who’d given up all hope, been consumed by the darkness. And it _still_ wasn’t too late. I saved my son.”

“Snoke told me that was a moment of weakness, a foolish sentiment at the very end.”

“No. It was the only thing I did in those years that I’m proud of.” Vader waved a hand, and the rest of his armor melted away, replaced by dark robes. “The only moment I was my true self again. Not Vader, but Anakin Skywalker.”

“Snoke was just a mask Palpatine was wearing,” Kylo said, which he already knew, but was beginning to _know_. “And he lied to me, about you.” 

“It’s what he did to me. I was a young Jedi with a secret wife, and I was terrified of losing her. My weakness, that he preyed upon, was how selfishly I _needed_ her to live, to be mine.” Anakin gave him a significant look, one that said even more than the words.

“Luke said the old Jedi were wrong. That love wouldn’t be forbidden in his Order. But you--”

“Passion. Not true, selfless love. Love is what _saved_ me. It can save you, too.”

“It’s too--” Kylo started to protest, but the words died on his lips. His false idol was a real man. And the real man had turned back after twenty years of darkness.

“Let go of your possessiveness. Stop hating yourself. Reject the arrogance that tells you you’ve done something unique and especially evil, that the stain will never be washed clean,” Anakin intoned. “Only then can you _truly_ finish what I started.” 

A moment later, his grandfather was gone.

* * *

He sat at the same place where Anakin had stopped him for an hour, then two. The art of staying absolutely still, of processing his emotions and letting them flow out instead of dominating his actions, was another of Luke’s earliest lessons. 

It was the first time he’d been able to do it since he started calling himself Kylo Ren. These last few days had shaken him to the core, truly broken the mask of pretense. Lies he’d been telling himself, lies he’d been told by his family’s old tormentor, both being washed away by the truth.

He loved Rey. That could keep being selfish and harmful and jealous and possessive, but it didn’t have to be.

He’d loved his father, and killing him hadn’t solved a thing.

He’d loved his uncle, and they could forgive and understand each other again.

He loved his mother. 

Tentatively, like the child of years ago, the one who had only just started to consciously use the Force… tentatively, he reached across the galaxy, seeking Leia’s mind. By some miracle, she was still out there. Luke and Rey said she wanted him back, but he barely dared to hope, his mind plaintive.

_… Mom?_

It was the longest minute of his life, but then, the silence broke. She heard him. She answered. Her mind was tinged with the pain of Han’s death - it would always be, as would his - but she pushed it down. 

He blinked tears out of his eyes. He could feel it now, knew it to be true. She _did_ still love him. She _did_ want him back. 

_Ben…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't actually top the Han/Ben scene in TROS (easily the best one in the movie), so I didn't try, but I did add two conversations people were hoping would be instrumental in his redemption.


	5. Chapter 5

Luke had long since vanished, and Rey was in the middle of meditating when Ben returned. 

Her mind caught up with the instinctual knowledge of the bond, and her eyes snapped open. He wasn’t Kylo Ren in his own head anymore. He was thinking of himself in a different way - but even more than that, it was the core truth of his _being_ that had changed. It was almost as if Kylo had stormed away and another person walked back.

“My grandfather appeared and gave me a real lecture,” Ben said, the ghost of a smile on his face. Certainly the first time Rey had ever seen him make anything close to that expression. 

“Vader? The real Vader?” 

“The real Anakin Skywalker. He hated himself as Vader.” He sucked in a breath. “And I… reached out to my mother.” 

“And?” 

“You were right. You were right about everything. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you.” Ben spoke in a rush, the speech clearly rehearsed. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. Words are cheap, guilt is an indulgence. The important thing is that I start acting like it. Do a little good after all the harm.” 

“Well, I don’t forgive you,” Rey said, keeping both her expression and the sensations in the bond itself as neutral as she could. “But I _could_ use your help. We all could. If we face the Emperor together, we’ll give the Resistance the best chance we can.” 

He nodded, not hiding his own relief. He started to speak again, clearly wanting to address the… whatever it was… between them, but stopped. Something within him still didn’t feel like he’d earned the right. 

“We’ll take the _Falcon_ , make sure we’ve shaken any followers, and go back to the Resistance base,” she said briskly, just as happy to table that particular discussion. 

“Wait.” Ben gestured at the broken hilt on her belt. “This is one of the oldest Jedi sites. It’s the perfect place to heal that crystal.” 

“I can fight with Luke’s saber,” Rey protested. “It could take days to fix the other.” 

“It won’t. You’re ready. And you’ll fight better when you’ve made something that’s truly _yours_ ,” he said, with the confidence of an older student lecturing a younger peer. Perhaps what could have been if he’d never turned on Luke, if she’d been discovered on Jakku. 

“Fine. Let’s go.”

* * *

  
  


The pool where Luke had sat and explained the history of the Jedi Order was somehow intact. Perhaps he’d protected it as well, or perhaps something about the site, the Force itself, had shielded it from something as mundane as a turbolaser. 

Ben had never been here, but he walked as confidently as if he had. It must have been their bond, sharing experiences and memories between the two of them. Rey was content to let the silence linger between them. His emotions were raw, a guilt and shame mixed with a new hope, a new confidence in himself. Both needed time to work through exactly how they felt about all this, but the light touch of another’s mind made the silence comfortable. 

He took them down a passage she’d never been. A low, sloping ceiling forced even her to duck, while Ben was practically bent double. It let out into an enormous cave. Light filtered down from the cliffside above, casting shadows in odd shapes. The cave, like the temple above, had been carved and shaped into its purpose with ancient tools, crude by modern standards. 

“This must be one of the oldest saber forges in the galaxy.” Ben indicated the very end of the cave, a plinth surrounded by carved stones. 

“It looks like a flat rock.”

“Well… It is a flat rock, but a special one. The Force feels very old and strong here, doesn’t it?” 

Rey sighed, dropping the two halves of Anakin’s broken saber on the plinth. “I don’t feel any different.” 

“You’re still holding back. Look, you just thought of it as another man’s weapon.”

“Well, it isn’t mine.”

“My grandfather is dead. He doesn’t own anything. He _would_ want it to be used against Palpatine.”

“What about _‘that saber, it belongs to me?_ ’” It was a petty thing to bring up, but it was satisfying to throw his own words back in his face even as he acted so assured.

But Ben just smiled. “Exactly. After my uncle rejected it, you brought it to me. Some part of you was still looking for the _proper_ heir of Anakin Skywalker. Let go of that part. The saber isn’t mine; I have no right to it. It called to you.” 

Rey started a sharp retort, but it died on her lips as she realized he had a point. There _had_ been some part of her that still sought for another to take up the saber’s call. Luke, Ben, Leia - the living Skywalkers. But it _had_ called to her, not any of them. 

Inspiration struck, and she laid both the green saber and her staff down on the stone plinth. Ben, watching, reassured her through the bond, spoke the words aloud as she got to work. 

“The legacy of Anakin Skywalker isn’t a boy who’s known all his life how special he is. It’s a slave in the dessert. Someone who’s struggled all their life just to survive. Someone who _became_ special when the Force chose them.” 

The two halves of the blue crystal jumped up and knit together. The green crystal, removed from the hilt of Luke’s saber, leaped to join it. The staff she always carried served as the base for the new hilt, a much longer hilt with emitters at both ends. She’d never so much as seen a design for a double-bladed saber. Perhaps it was the old memories of this place, the ancient saber forge. 

The yellow blades extended from both sides as she finished the weapon, and she knew at once Ben had been right. This lightsaber was _hers_ , exactly suited to her in a way that the others had never been.

Rey looked over at him, and only then noticed that his face was also screwed up in concentration, the hilt of his saber on his knees. She knew better than to ask what he was doing, but several minutes later, when he opened his eyes again, she gave him a quizzical look.

“Luke introduced me to an old sage once. A former Jedi during the Clone Wars who walked away from the Order. She’d learned to take a bled kyber crystal and purify it with the light side. I’ve been… apologizing, more or less, to mine. Healing it.” 

He stood and activated the saber. A purple blade sprang out, not through the extra exhaust vents, but a single mass, stable and strong. 

Rey grinned at it, but Ben looked nonplussed. “Well… for her, it was white.” 

“Maybe it’s different for anyone. The crystal _feels_ healthy, doesn’t it?” 

“So it does.” 

* * *

The sun was setting by the time they returned to the _Falcon_ , bathing the old freighter in orange twilight. Protected by the shelf of rock, on the uninhabited side of the island, the ship was no worse for wear.

Ben let her go up first, his whole manner that of a guest in someone else’s home. He stopped when they reached the cockpit, bare hand trailing over the back of the pilot’s seat. 

A rush of memories assaulted them both. Han Solo hadn’t been the type of father to quash his child’s adventurous spirit. Young Ben, not yet even 10 years old, sat in the pilot’s seat with his father beside him. Han laughed and laughed, not caring that the boy’s fumbling efforts occasionally drove the _Falcon_ into the ground and snapped components off of its hull. He was teaching his son to do what he loved most, climb up into the open air, feel the way a ship responded to its pilot’s hands.

Rey pulled herself out of the memory first, and touched Ben’s shoulder. He cried, openly, the tears running down his face and onto the co-pilot’s chair as he collapsed into it.

“She’s yours. Not mine. Never mine.” 

“Chewie might have something to say about that,” she said, and he snorted a laugh through his tears. 

“His, then. Let’s take it back to him.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am obviously referencing Ashoka here, but since this whole scenario is non-canon anyway, Ben purifies his crystal to a different color. I wanted those Revan/Bastila vibes.


	6. Chapter 6

Leia had clearly planned ahead, because the entire Resistance wasn’t waiting to shoot at the former Supreme Leader as they disembarked from the _Falcon_. There was one person no amount of ordering could hold back, though.

Ben hadn’t made it off the ramp before enormous hairy arms enveloped him and threw him back into one of the trees. He offered no resistance as Chewbacca closed in and roared in his face. Ben’s Shyriiwook was rusty, but he was pretty sure it wouldn’t have helped in any event. The Wookiee was operating on pure emotion, rage and sadness mingled together. 

There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t sound cheap or hollow. It certainly wouldn’t calm Chewbacca down. 

The Wookiee drew back a clawed hand and slammed it at his face. Ben didn’t flinch, and the claws ripped a solid two inches of bark off the tree, just above his head. Then Chewie’s arms enveloped him again, not to throw him this time, but just to hold him.

“I know. I know,” he murmured, patting the Wookiee’s back awkwardly. 

“Pretty sure he’d be justified in caving that pretty face in,” someone said from behind them. The thump of a cane against mossy forest floor, the sweep of an expensive cape, and Lando Calrissian was standing behind Chewie, face uncharacteristically absent of a grin. 

“Uncle,” Ben muttered. His first instinct was to look away from the man’s gaze, but he knew there was no hiding from this. His father’s two best friends would be just the first of those he’d need to face. He met Lando’s eyes. 

“He _would_ be justified.” 

Lando studied his face for a long time, then nodded. “Yeah. But that isn’t what Han died for. He died to bring you back here.” Chewie roared again, and he translated, “Don’t kriff it up. Wookiees have _very_ long memories.”

The hairy arms receded, so suddenly that Ben almost fell. Lando offered an arm for him to steady himself. 

“What are you doing here, uncle?” 

“Whole damn galaxy’s gotten all inspired by what Luke did, but a bunch of well-meaning volunteers only get you so far. Leia asked me to round up the real muscle. Hutt Cartel, Black Suns, Crimson Dawn, Haxion Brood…”

“What could we possibly offer them?” Rey hadn’t intervened as Chewie worked through his feelings, but she joined the conversation now.

Lando shrugged. “First Order’s cracking down on spice-runners just as hard as the old New Republic garrisons. A galaxy without them looks real attractive to the underworld right now. We win, and we’ll be too busy restoring order to crack down on them.” 

“Hutts are slavers. We won’t even _try_ to stop them?” Rey scowled, clearly remembering her own childhood on Jakku.

“We won’t condone it, but how can we stop it?” Lando shook his head. “A dirty bargain. But even _with_ their support we’re severely outnumbered. We need to win this before we worry about what everything looks like after.” 

Ben nodded. “I think I can help with that.” 

* * *

On their way to see Leia, they came across Poe and Finn, squabbling over the holographic display of a Star Destroyer. 

“Rose was _on_ the Supremacy with me, and she’s been over and over this. She says that structural weakness will be common on the smaller models, and I believe her.” 

“If we’re wrong, we’re throwing lives away. Standard attack patterns--”

“--Won’t do nearly enough damage. We’re outnumbered. We need to take chances.” 

“Yes, but smart ones. I won’t order anyone to throw their lives away. Show me again, and I’ll--” 

Poe cut himself off and grabbed Finn’s arm. They both looked up and regarded Ben with open suspicion. 

“Good to see you, _Rey_ ,” Poe said. 

The brash pilot was clearly looking for a fight, so Ben didn’t give it to him. Instead he regarded Finn. “I remember you. Phasma called you ‘the bug in the system.’” 

“Uh… yeah, she said something like that. Before I killed her,” the former Stormtrooper said, his bravado feeling somewhat forced. 

“She was terrified of you.” 

“...Huh?” 

“Well. What you represented. Breaking free of the programming. Your Force sensitivity helped, of course.” 

“His _what_?” Poe and Rey said together, while Finn winced. 

“I’ve, uh, thought I might be. Just recently. _Very_ recently,” he said, glancing between his two friends. 

“I can feel it now. I should’ve realized - but I never thought to look for it,” Rey said. 

“We could’ve used another Jedi fighter,” Poe said, frowning. 

“Of course that’s the first thing thing you go to,” Finn scowled at him. “I want to fight, I want to save the galaxy, but this thing inside me, it’s not… it’s not a _weapon_. I don’t want to use it like that.”

Ben coughed. “You don’t have to. If I can make a suggestion… there might just be a way you can use it to save thousands of lives.”

As all three of them stared at him, he explained: “Most of the First Order’s Stormtroopers aren’t volunteers, but ordinary people, conditioned to fight. You broke the programming all on your own. You can show the others how. Maybe more of them will take a chance at freedom.”

“But I only broke it because of the Force,” Finn protested.

“No. You broke it because of who you are. All the Force did was give you the ability - or the curse - of Empathy. You felt everyone in that village dying, _felt_ their innocence, and had the strength to refuse an order to murder them.” Ben was silent a moment before adding: “My order.” 

“So what you’re saying is…” Poe was clearly lost by all the Force talk, but making his best effort. “We plug an antenna into Finn’s head and broadcast this ‘Empathy’ to the other Stormtroopers.” 

Rey bit back a laugh. “Well. Something like that, anyway.” 

“It won’t be difficult for you to learn. It’s just taking this… core goodness at your center and pushing it outwards,” Ben clarified to Finn. “Get on a Destroyer, hack into the comms systems and just, you know, talk to them.” 

“Talk to them,” Finn repeated skeptically.

“I have a code sequence that should make them more… suggestible. It was supposed to be used for new orders, anyway. Instead, they’ll hear you, telling them to break free.” Ben shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.” 

“Hell, it might be our only shot. Even if you only convinced ten percent of them...” Poe turned to the hologram with a new enthusiasm, fingers flying over the virtual blueprint. “That’s all you need for a real effective mutiny. And cripple enough of the Destroyers…” 

“Only the flagship will have a communications link with the entire fleet,” Finn said, his voice more excited as he warmed to the idea. “But if you can get me on it, I can find it.” 

“Hux - and the Emperor inside of him--” Ben paused as Poe and Finn both interrupted him at once, shrugging their exclamations away. “Long story. Anyway, he thinks I’m dead. I might still be able to use my codes to get a strike team on board.” 

“We need to brief Leia and the rest of the council,” Poe decided, switching off the display and pocketing the emitter. “But I’ll tell her what I think: this is our best chance to win.” 

Finn pulled Rey aside as the other two walked ahead, lowering his voice. “You sure we can trust him? I mean, I trust _you_ and your judgment, but… hard to forget that he almost killed me last time I saw him.” 

“He did terrible things to all three of us,” she acknowledged. “But you have the Force, too. What is it telling you?” 

He squinted at Ben’s back. “I don’t feel any deception. I feel… a lot of things… and one of them is honesty.” 

“Trust your instincts. That’s the first lesson.” She patted him on the shoulder. 

“Hey, wait, I agreed to this crazy plan, but I never said I was interested in Jedi school,” he grinned. 

“And I’d prefer to have someone less stubborn as my first student, but we’ll have to make do,” Rey sniffed. 

They mock-glared at each other, but couldn’t hold it for long. Laughing, they hurried to catch up with Ben and Poe. 

* * *

Even Hux had expected more resistance from the rest of the First Order, but fortune smiled on him. One of his ubiquitous security cameras, placed in the elevator of the Supremacy, had captured the whole conversation between Kylo Ren and the Jedi girl. Another, installed against Snoke’s permission, showed Kylo turning on his master and striking him down. Playing the footage had been enough to dissuade the few holdouts, and even Ren’s personal thugs, the so-called Knights, had remained, apparently owing their first loyalty to Snoke. Or to the person inside Snoke… 

“Our scouts will find their base soon, I’m sure. Shall we prepare to attack?” Hux asked. If his officers were unsettled by his speaking aloud to something they couldn’t see or hear... well, they’d served under Snoke and Ren long enough to know better than to say anything about it. 

_“No… keep the fleet here. And broadcast our location to all units in other sectors, on an open line.”_

“Emperor?” Hux knew better than to sound _too_ skeptical, but he couldn’t help but ask. “They will slice that transmission and discover our location.” 

_“I am counting on that, because Ren and the Jedi girl yet live. Your pitiful connection to the Force must have clouded my senses before, but I can feel them now.”_ Almost casually, Palpatine caused him to experience a horrific headache. Hux wanted to drop to his knees, but his body refused to obey him. It had a new master.

_“I will draw them into my trap. One of them will become my new vessel, and the full measure of my power will be restored. As for you… you will serve one final purpose. The last sacrifice.”_

Hux tried to scream, but it died and gurgled in his throat. Instead he started to laugh in time with the voice in his head, a loud, insane laugh that echoed through the bridge of the Destroyer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before the movie, I was very much hoping for a scene where a redeemed Ben has to face Chewie (and uncle Lando) and everyone has to work through how they feel. Of course they just killed him off instead of trying to write any of that lol, but that's what fic is for.


	7. Chapter 7

The naval battle raging around them had started in organized ranks, but already devolved into pure dogfighting chaos by the time Chewie flew them underneath their goal, Hux’s flagship Destroyer. 

“This isn’t good,” Poe’s voice said over the comms. Even the static didn’t hide the accusatory note. “Look at the formation of those Destroyers. They knew we were coming.” 

“The Emperor is extremely powerful. It’s inevitable that he sensed something with all those people gathered in one place, so intent on destroying him.” Ben ignored the real implication of what Poe was saying - it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it, but arguing wouldn’t help them right now.

“My codes still worked, so we didn’t raise any alarms with the infantry, but I can feel it - this _is_ a trap,” he said off-comm to Rey. “Be careful.” 

Rey nodded at him, clearly as nervous as he was, but controlling it well, projecting focus and determination. She took the lead, jumping down the _Falcon’s_ ramp and into the Destroyer’s access chute. 

“Don’t worry,” Lando said easily, lounging in the co-pilot’s chair. “They’re just getting all lined up for my reinforcements to knock ‘em down.” 

“Your reinforcements are also late,” Poe snarled.

“You try getting a bunch of squabbling smugglers to agree on something, let alone show up on time. You’re lucky I’m so damn charismatic, or they wouldn’t be coming at all.” 

Finn, Rose, and the rest of the boarding party heading for the communications tower jumped next, emptying the _Falcon_ of its human cargo. Chewie roared enthusiastically and decoupled the ship, accelerating into the fray. 

“Just buy us a little more time. Once I get on those comms, we won,” Finn said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. He’d never tried anything with the Force on _this_ scale, and Rey’s reassurances that touching one mind was the same principle as touching a fleet-full of them hadn’t done much to calm his nerves. 

“You can do this,” Rose assured him. 

“I hope so.” He sighed and nodded at the company of shock troopers escorting them. “Let’s go!” 

* * *

The halls of the Destroyer remained silent and empty far longer than they should have. The access codes gaining them entrance was one thing, but by now they should’ve run into a standard patrol team. Both Ben and Rey could feel the danger lurking in front of them, like a coiled spring ready to snap free. 

“We need to go some way he _isn’t_ expecting.” Rey glanced around the corridor, her eyes lighting up as she spotted a ventilation shaft. “Like that.” 

Ben regarded it dubiously as she activated a single blade to cut her way in. “Not sure I could fit in there. And… Oh.” 

“Oh? What’s _oh_?” 

“He definitely doesn’t want us venturing off his gilded path. A whole company of troopers is coming up behind us, and… some old friends of mine are leading them.” Ben helped her wrench the grating free, but stood and stepped back. “You go in. I’ll cover you.” 

“We shouldn’t get separated,” Rey protested.

“They’d just throw detonators in after us and blow the whole system. But you can make it alone, because I won’t let them.”

The quiet assurance was nothing at all like Kylo Ren’s blustering. It was something far deeper, far stronger. Something she could trust with her life. She clipped the saber back onto her belt and dived into the vents.

Their raw emotions flowed through the bond, deeper and more intimate than anything they could say to each other, and then she shut it out and started forward, focused on her goal. 

Ben didn’t have long to wait. The company of troopers sprinted into view a moment later. Behind them, six figures in black, each wielding a vibro-weapon that was more than capable of fencing with a lightsaber. 

“Don’t suppose you’d be interested in switching sides?” he called to the Knights, formerly _his_ Knights. “I’m still alive. And the old man’s a losing proposition.” 

“Jedi mercy,” one of them spat. 

“We serve the darkness.” 

“We serve the Ren.” 

“I had to ask. It’s in the light side contract. But, to be honest…” Ben smirked and activated his saber with a flourish. The troopers shouted and opened fire, but deflecting the bolts was as easy and natural as breathing. He would fight like the Jedi did, letting the Force flow through him instead of clamping his own will over it, and it felt _right_. 

“I was sort of hoping you’d turn me down.” 

* * *

Crawling through the ventilation shafts was hardly the stuff of Jedi legends, but it _was_ effective. Rey heard more troopers, rushing about in confusion, shouting about her sudden disappearance from their scanners. Their comrades at the mouth of the shaft hadn’t gotten on comms to tip the others off - too busy with Ben, exactly as he’d planned. 

With most of the Destroyer’s garrison fanned out in a futile search, this was her best chance to end it all. Even if it meant confronting the Emperor alone.

 _“You’re not alone,”_ Luke’s voice murmured in her ear. No spectral form this time, but she could feel his presence, and it calmed her. 

Rey cut her way through the ceiling of the bridge and dropped down. A quick jab of Force slammed the blast doors to the rest of the ship closed, preventing any returning troopers from intervening. Only a handful of red-armored guards, like those in Snoke’s own throne room, stood between her and Hux now. 

Hux… who hadn’t so much as stirred at her sudden arrival. He just stood at the enormous window, staring out at the battle with detached interest. 

The guards sprang to attack, and Rey activated both blades. Just a few months ago, she had needed Kylo’s help just to survive a similar fight. But now, with a weapon that was truly hers, it was a completely different story. The double-blades danced in her hands, as natural as her old staff, and one by one, the guards fell.

“Very good,” Hux said, but his voice was _nothing_ like Hux’s had ever been. It oozed out of him like some evil serpent. When he finally turned to look at her, it was with the face of a corpse - pale white, and all the veins standing out, red and inflamed and angry. Like something inside of him was barely contained and itching to burst free. Even his hair had fallen off in scaly patches.

“Palpatine, I presume.” She walked to stand just a pace away from him. She could drive one of the blades into his chest from here, but he did nothing to stop her and some instinct screamed at her to heed that; _this_ was the trap. 

The Emperor shrugged Hux’s shoulders. “What is left of him. You must be the girl from nothing that styles herself the last Jedi. The Resistance flew right into my trap - oh, not the trap out there,” he added, predicting her objection. “None of that matters. It was all arranged you bring you two here.” 

“What are you talking about?” Half of her was screaming at Rey to just kill him now; the other trying to spot the nature of the trap. 

“This vessel is pitiful, falling part. The last Skywalker… He is strong, and his anger will make him vulnerable. And when I take control, my revenge on that damnable family will finally be complete.” Malice shone in the yellowed eyes. 

“I won’t let that happen.” But the idea of it made her angry, _too_ angry to act. Luke had said he won by not fighting, and Rey searched desperately for a way she could do the same. 

“ _You_?” He laughed. “You, girl, are nothing. Simply the bait in the trap. Like those ships out there...” 

With a casual contempt, he pointed Hux’s fingers towards the vast window. Lightning arced from the hand and shot through a one-way seal. Before Rey’s eyes, a dozen Resistance X-wings exploded, the lightning arcing from one to another before it dissipated. 

She had to stop him. She couldn’t stand there peacefully and wait for some outside intervention, the way Luke had. She couldn’t sit back and watch her friends die. 

But even as Rey drove the saber into Hux’s gut, she heard Palpatine’s laughter ringing in her ears, and knew at once she’d made a terrible mistake.

 _“I lied. It wasn’t Skywalker’s body that I wanted… and_ your _anger opened the door.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another idea I liked from TROS was Palpatine planning to transfer his essence into anyone who struck him down in anger. Felt very Old Republic.


	8. Chapter 8

It was a subtle thing at first - a vague, uneasy feeling that washed over Ben by degrees. By the time he’d smoothly dispatched the final Knight of Ren (by slicing through the haft of his vibro-axe, spinning behind him, and running him through), the unease had cemented into dread, and he’d identified the source. 

His bond with Rey didn’t feel right. They hadn’t been speaking to each other or even directly touching minds, intent on their separate engagements with the enemy’s forces, but the bond was still with them, like a low hum in the back of their minds. But now that humming was gone. What had happened? 

Recklessly, he tried to pull the bond back open, reaching out to her. _Rey?_

His only answer was laughter. _Palpatine’s_ mad, cackling laughter. Then there was a sudden pain, worse than anything he’d ever felt. It was a purely mental sensation, but it hurt worse than any physical injury he could imagine; hurt so badly that he collapsed, screaming, to the floor.

_“This bond between you is such fun! You cannot even begin to block me out without severing it - and crippling yourself in the bargain.”_

He tried to rise, but another jolt of pure agony ran through the bond. It was all he could do to stay conscious as he curled into a fetal position, whimpering. 

“Get up, Ben,” his uncle said into his ear. Luke’s very presence seemed to help him forget the pain, like a stimpack pressed into his flesh.

“Rise, grandson,” Anakin said into his other ear. He could feel Palpatine’s scream of protest as the sensations of the bond muted out, taking the agony away with them. 

Ben staggered to his feet - there was no physical injury, but the memory of pain was so strong that there might as well have been. Nonetheless, he forced himself to start walking, and then to start running. The Destroyer’s communication system crackled as Palpatine started to call reinforcements to the bridge, but then it cut off in a squeal of static. 

Perhaps the other mission had succeeded in wresting control of the comms. He didn’t know, nor particularly care. All of this was for nothing if the Emperor had Rey. 

He stopped in front of the enormous blast doors, shut and sealed from the inside. It would take far too long to cut through them with his saber. He sucked in his breath, clearing the pain and fear and anger from his mind, focusing only on the Force - and what he needed it to do for him. 

_I have to save her._

The first effort smashed into the blast doors like a giant’s first, crumpling them inwards. The second followed, wrenching at the weakened metal and tearing an enormous hole, ten feet by ten feet. Ben stepped through the opening and onto the bridge.

The only living thing, standing amid the corpses of the Imperial Guards and Hux himself, was Rey, waiting for him. But of course it wasn’t only Rey. Her body hadn’t begun to change or wear down as Hux’s had, but the eyes staring back at him were all Palpatine’s, cold and evil. 

“Go on - strike me down,” he taunted, though the voice still sounded like her own, an extra twist of the knife in Ben’s guts. “Give the girl a clean death. If you do not, I will devour her, mind and soul, and restore the full measure of my strength.” 

In a flash of sudden intuition, Ben could see the full measure of his scheme, opening like a book before him. Palpatine’s impossible return was fueled by nothing more than spite and a petty vengeance. He simply wanted to destroy the last of the Skywalkers. Now Palpatine would either force Ben to murder the one he loved, at the cost of his sanity; or break him, physically and mentally, torturing him to death while wearing Rey’s face. 

The dark side, which had once seemed strong, grand, holding the mysteries of the Force, was revealed as a shrunken, pathetic thing. Ben felt an echo in the Force - Luke’s mingled disgust and pity when his uncle had faced this same man, seen the same truth, 30 years ago. So he made the same choice. 

“No. I will not fight you.” 

“Oh? Then this vessel has served to perfection. You’re far too weak to kill the one you love,” Palpatine sneered.

“That’s not it.” Ben stepped towards Rey, saber on his belt, hands at his sides. Though he walked unarmed towards the most dangerous man in the galaxy, he felt nothing but a deep, strong confidence in his choice. 

Lightning crackled along her fingers, growing more intense as Ben continued his slow approach. “You think you can fight? Force me to exhaust myself and lose my hold? You’ll die _long_ before I weaken, boy.” 

“You don’t understand it, and you never will. I’ve come here... to finish what my grandfather started.” 

The lightning arced towards him, but he was already gone, leaping into the air and landing directly in front of Rey. He grabbed her arms, sending the second lightning attack flying off uselessly to one side. 

Then he reached into the bond and poured all of his will into it.

 _“Back for more?”_ Palpatine sneered. _“Your strength is nothing compared to mine.”_

But Ben didn’t even try to fight Palpatine. All he did was focus on Rey - and his love for her. The one thing that the old Emperor could never understand nor hope to overcome. His hatred broke against it like water on a rock. It threw him out of their bond, and Ben kept pushing, telling Rey to remember who she was, to shed the remnant spirit that tried to claim her. 

It took all of his strength - made tearing the heavy blast doors apart feel like an easy task in comparison - but finally, he felt it. Rey’s mind, her _self_ , reasserting itself against Palpatine’s control. 

Fighting together, their minds joined as one, they drove him out. Ben smiled as the bond began to feel once more the way it had always felt, suffused with her true self once more. He’d done it. He’d saved her. 

_I love you, Rey_.

_Ben, I…_

The rest of her response slipped away from him as his mind lost its grip. He was still smiling as he collapsed to the cold floor of the bridge.

* * *

Rey felt Ben’s mind fade away, saw his body collapse limply to the floor. Part of her was certain he was dead, but the rest of her refused to accept it. There was no time to dwell upon it in any case. Hux’s corpse shuffled to its feet, seeming not to care about the enormous hole Rey’s saber had put through him. He extended a hand and Ben’s saber flew into it. The dead Guards were rising too, movements jerky as they picked their fallen vibro-weapons back up and hefted them. 

_He could be in any of them… and even if I kill the real one, he’ll jump to another._ She wouldn’t let him hop inside _her_ \- not this time. She was angry, but she forced it down. She wouldn’t give into the darkness, nor strike him down to avenge Ben. She would kill him to defend others - to save the Resistance. 

Even as she willed that truth into existence, two ghostly forms materialized - Luke, and the other must have been Ben’s grandfather, Anakin. Their faces looked grim and determined, and they lifted their hands simultaneously. Blue light flew to circle around Hux and all of the dead Guards.

“He has no place to run, so long as you do not give him one,” Luke assured her. 

“Steel yourself, and finish it,” Anakin intoned. 

Hux snarled with Palpatine’s voice and lunged at her, but Rey caught the blade on one side of her own saber and pushed him back. She activated the other and cut through the Guards again, blocking and parrying and slashing with a detached and clinical air. No anger. No vengeance. 

Palpatine, it turned out, had possessed the captain of the Guards. When Hux fell, the captain snarled in disgust and snatched the saber from the corpse. With it in one hand and a long vibrosword in the other, he rushed at Rey.

The body was young and strong, and backed up by the ancient Sith’s long experience with combat. He forced Rey steadily back, redoubling his efforts as they drew near the edge of the ghostly circle. She knew, somewhere deep within her, that if he could cross the circle, he would escape. 

Instinct called her again, and she abandoned the traditional saber form Luke and the Jedi texts had begun to teach her. She was a novice in those forms compared to him, but she had other experiences to draw on. Rey deactivated both blades and swung the hilt of the double-bladed saber as if it was her old staff, striking his leg to slow him, smashing his weaker hand until the sword clattered from his grip, jabbing the end into his face and crushing his nose.

And before he could recover and force them back into a traditional duel, she snapped one of the blades to life, and ran him through. 

The captain’s body screamed, a high unnatural sound filled with Force enough to throw her back several feet. She fell backwards and straight through the blue illumination. A smoke-like blackness billowed from the captain’s mouth and streaked towards her, triumphant, certain he’d shattered the bonds that would keep him there.

Then a blue hand descended into the darkness and seized it. An echo of Palpatine’s voice screamed another blast of Force, but Anakin was utterly unaffected. He lifted the shadow into the air with an iron grip.

“You cheated death once, desperately clinging to a twisted form of life. But not this time. The Force demands balance.” 

He vanished, taking the remnant of Palpatine with him. Rey knew - could feel - that it had been utterly destroyed. This time, he would not return. The Force itself had simply snuffed him out, with the elder Skywalker serving as the executioner. 

Her shoulders sagged with relief, but then she remembered Ben. 

Luke was already kneeling over his nephew’s body as she fell to her knees next to it. Her hand sought out her old master’s shoulder, and somewhat to her surprise, didn’t pass through, but clutched his robes.

“Is he dead?” 

“He should be. I’ve kept him breathing, but it won’t last. By the time the Resistance medical crews alive...” He shook his head. 

“I’ll heal him,” Rey ventured, remembering something of the techniques from the Jedi books.

“Bringing him back from the brink would kill you, and even _if_ he survived the bond shattering, he’d be a broken man, an open wound in the Force,” Luke said. His somehow-solid hand pushed her back, a gentle suggestion that she obeyed. “I think there’s another way. But if it works, this might be the last time you see me.” 

“Master Luke… I still need your guidance.” 

“Oh, no you don’t. You have everything you need - and not in those old books.” He smiled back at her, the expression seeming to wipe years from his face. “So long as people with good hearts fight to defend what they love, the Light will endure. If you teach your Jedi nothing else... teach them to love.” 

Then Luke simply melted into Ben’s body, and was gone. 

A moment passed - it felt like the longest moment of Rey’s life. Then Ben’s eyes flew open and he jerked upwards, as if a medical droid had administered a shock to start his heart pumping again.

She caught him before he fell back again, pulled him into a tight embrace. He said nothing, and she didn’t break the silence. There was nothing they _needed_ to say; words would simply be a poor substitute for that rush of sensations, of triumph and love and joy and a dozen others, that flowed between them. 

The loneliness that had defined her for so long, that had driven his own despairing descent into the mask of Kylo Ren, was melting away. Now… and forever… they had one another. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of all the things I didn't like about TROS, the Force Bond just being a big old battery for Palps and not actually helping Rey & Ben defeat him seems like one of the worst choices thematically. The villain speech in the trailer of "your coming together will be your undoing" should be shown to be absolutely wrong!


	9. Chapter 9

To his dying day, Poe would never know what instinct had caused him to veer away at the very last second. There was no obvious sign of danger, but then the lightning flew out of the flagship and exploded a dozen Resistance ships directly in front of him. 

He shouted a string of curses in Huttese and got on the comms. “What the _hell_ was that?” 

“Guessing that’s old man Palpatine taking direct shots at us,” Lando rumbled.

“Well, those two better kill him, because I don’t have any kriffing idea how we’re supposed to fight magic lightning,” Poe snarled back. He knew better than to interrupt the two Jedi’s concentration by calling them - they’d get there, or they wouldn’t. Finn, on the other hand… 

“Strike team, give me some good news here.” 

“We’ve sliced in!” Rose called back. “Just buy us a few more minutes.”

He flew in a complicated loop to avoid two TIES. “I do not _have_ a few more minutes. Maybe if those kriffing smugglers finally showed…” 

Naturally, the moment he opened his mouth, he saw the whole fleet of them jump out of hyperspace at once. The line wasn’t very straight, no ship was identical to its neighbor, and if he knew smugglers at all, they’d each be more interested in their own glory than following orders. But it was a _very_ good distraction, and he ordered the Resistance fleet to fire into the back of any ship moving to engage Lando’s buddies. 

After a few more minutes of frantic dogfights, they earned an even better distraction. Finn started his broadcast. Poe was still skeptical about it all, and his friend sounded nervous, the speech overly-rehearsed. But this Force thing didn’t seem to care about any of that, because the effect was immediate. 

Finn hadn’t swayed ten percent of _each_ ship’s crew. Some of the Destroyers kept firing away, while others suddenly stopped. A few actually turned on their own fleet, firing non-lethal ion cannons that stopped TIEs in their tracks and disabled even the larger ships after enough direct hits. 

Portions of one’s own fleet suddenly turning traitor - and worse, at random - was nearly insurmountable. Poe didn’t envy whatever enemy Admiral was left holding the bag. Palpatine was probably the only one who could tell the still-loyal troopers from the deprogrammed ones, and he was evidently too busy to intervene. 

“ _T_ _hat_ worked,” he said with satisfaction. 

But there was still no word from their two Forcers.

“Finn, buddy, did Rey make the rendezvous?” Poe asked over their secure line. 

“We’re here, but she isn’t. And nothing on the local channel…” 

Poe bit his lip, but there wasn’t anything for it. “Chewie, get over there and pick the strike team up. I don’t want to lose a whole company by waiting for two.” And if they hadn’t succeeded, and they were dead…. Well, he’d blow that flagship to hell the moment Finn, Rose, and the others were clear. If Palpatine escaped, this was all for nothing. 

“Wait, is that… I see them!” Finn shouted, relief in his voice. “Nothing on comms, but she’s alive! They’re coming to meet us.”

“We did it. We actually did it!” Poe whooped and punched the top of his cockpit, then threw the X-wing into a celebratory figure-8. He gave himself a moment of pure exultation before he opened the general comms, broadcasting to Resistance, smugglers, and First Order ships alike. 

“This is General Poe Dameron. Hux is dead, and that old Sith riding around inside him was destroyed, too. The rest of you don’t have to die here. If you lay down your weapons and surrender your ships, I can give you Leia Organa’s personal assurances that you will not be harmed.” 

Some of them would die rather than be taken prisoner, he knew. But if Finn was right and most of the rank and file troopers had simply been programmed to obey, this was their chance to grab their lives back. 

He hoped Leia was right, too, and that their mercy today would buy them a real, lasting peace. Poe figured they had a decent chance. Unlike those old Imperial fanatics, scattering to the Unknown Regions to seek revenge, most of the First Order could be deprogrammed and allowed to return to whatever home they’d been stolen from. 

There was only one way to find out.

* * *

The victory celebration was loud, boisterous, and well-earned. Lando and his smugglers knew how to throw a party, and the Resistance fighters and deprogrammed Stormtroopers alike were more than happy to cut loose and enjoy it. 

Rey stayed with Poe and Finn at first, all three excitedly swapping stories about their part in the final battle. Finn was particularly animated, clearly overjoyed to have saved so many people’s lives with his Force-enhanced broadcast. He was no longer reluctant about his talents, and positively eager to start learning more from her. 

Eventually Poe left to join the pilots’ drinking competition, and Finn wandered away in turn, looking for Rose. Rey slipped away as soon as she could. People she’d never even met had been coming up to congratulate her all night, which was as gratifying as it was overwhelming and exhausting. She couldn’t take much more of it.

Neither Leia nor Ben were at the party. Leia would join later, and doubtless be toasted enthusiastically for her leadership of the victorious Resistance. But as for Ben… Rey could feel his intentions clearly enough, and they didn’t surprise her. 

She found them at the hangar bay, fueling up an unmarked freighter - a smuggler’s craft, through and through. Smaller than the _Falcon_ , but just as old and dirty, and no doubt fitted with just as many hidden storage compartments.

“I bought it off a friend of Lando’s,” Ben explained as Rey approached.

Leia gave the ship a skeptical look. “And I suppose Lando vouches for him? I’d be surprised if this thing makes it off the ground.” 

“It’s all I need.” 

“You don’t _have_ to go,” Rey said. They hadn’t actually had this argument yet, but feeling each other in the bond the way they did, it felt like retreading an old one they’d been over a hundred times. “Barely anyone knows Ben Solo was Kylo Ren.” 

“Barely anyone knew Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader, but when the truth came out, it destroyed my mother’s political career,” he said. “This time, we tell everyone.” 

“You shouldn’t concern yourself with that,” Leia said, touching his shoulder. 

“Fine, so we tell them the full story… Including you turning on the First Order and helping us defeat them,” Rey insisted. 

“The galaxy needs to learn forgiveness in order to heal. With all the former Stormtroopers who we’ll be pardoning…” His mother frowned. “There’s more you aren’t telling us.” 

“I don’t expect the galaxy to be as forgiving as you two, but no, it’s not the main reason,” Ben admitted. “ _I_ know all the harm I did as Kylo Ren. I’m not… I’m not ready to just forgive myself and move past it.” 

“So what _will_ you do?” Rey asked.

“Some good. Wherever I can.” He looked at her and smiled. _And besides… it’s not like distance means anything to us._

She lifted an eyebrow. _There are_ some _things distance prevents._

Ben flushed, and looked up at his ship to hide it. _I’ll visit. Often._

 _You’d better_.

Leia regarded them with a knowing smile, then hugged both of them in turn. She took Rey’s hand between her own as they watched him climb up into the ship. Neither spoke until he’d lifted off and flown away.

“I’ve been thinking about your question. One of the Core Worlds would be best. Whatever government we manage to set up won’t have the infrastructure to protect transport traffic to the remote edge of the Outer Rim.” 

“I was sort of thinking about Tatooine…” Rey laughed at Leia’s horrified expression. “Kidding. It wasn’t like either Anakin or Luke was there by choice.” 

“If you really want to honor them… I have the perfect place. My mother’s home-world, Naboo. You’ll love it… water, life, and green things growing on every inch of it.” 

“Palpatine’s home-world, too.” 

“So much the better. We’ll make it ours again.” 

Rey smiled. “I like the sound of that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping that Naboo would make an appearance or reference in the movie, since it's the place this whole Skywalker story started chronologically (though Tatooine is obviously where it all started for the audience) and given Palpatine's direct link to it. Alas.


	10. Chapter 10

Once the overseers had drank themselves into a stupor, the slave boy ran for it. 

His escape attempt wasn’t planned, just a spur of the moment decision when he saw they’d sent the droid watchers away on some other task, and their living slave-masters had helpfully incapacitated themselves. He didn’t have any idea of where he was going. The slaves weren’t ever let out of their damp, dark warehouse.

Kriff, he only knew he was on Nar Shaddaa at all because he’d picked up enough Hutteese to occasionally decipher a few words from the overseers’ private conversations. Apparently this place was a favored moon of the Hutts, and the most open for business with the rest of the galaxy. Most of it was illegal and a good portion of it was trafficking slaves.

The boy saw no sympathy in the eyes of any of the various alien species that staggered, drunk, through the alleys, or waited in lines outside bright, colorful buildings. They knew full well how the Hutts built their empire on slavery. None of them would risk their hosts’ anger, even if they’d been inclined to help him out.

Shouts, and the barking of the akk dogs, started to ring out in the alley network behind him. The boy knew he was dead now. His only real chance had been to make it to the local spaceport and stow away before his absence was noted. He couldn’t outrun the dogs, and they’d sniff out any hiding-place. 

Runaways were given no quarter, dragged back and viciously killed as an example to the others. Sometimes, when an older slave escaped, they simply threw themselves off the edge of the elevated warehouse sector. The fall killed them much quicker, and much less painfully.

The boy thought about it, running along the very edge and looking down at the traffic whizzing by. But something told him to keep going, to not give up just yet. It was like a voice inside his mind, though he didn’t hear any words, just the sensation of encouragement. His feet automatically took him back on course, towards the spaceport. 

The akk dogs and their handlers were nearly on him when someone jumped down from the roof of one of the buildings lining the alley. It was a drop of thirty feet at least, but they - whoever _they_ were - landed smoothly on their feet, halfway between the boy and the slavers pursuing him. The boy almost tripped, stopped, turned around to stare.

The figure wore a long, dark coat, much like the human smugglers favored - the kind with a whole network of inner pockets for concealing weapons. _Unlike_ most of them, his face was covered by a mask made of some light-colored metal that was almost white.

The dogs stopped short, wary of this new and unfamiliar person. Their masters cursed loudly in Huttese. Blaster pistols and rifles were drawn and leveled towards them. 

“Leave the boy alone. Walk away with your lives. This is your only warning.” The mask modulated the figure’s voice, but it was clearly male. 

The slavers jeered and started firing. 

The boy wasn’t entirely sure what happened next. The mysterious man was standing there one moment, but before the bolts reached his position, he was gone. He moved between the slavers too quickly for the boy’s eyes to really follow him. A low humming and flashes of purple light were all that marked his dance of death, cutting down slaver after slaver. Even the dogs seemed confused, lunging at shadows instead of the real man. 

Moments later, the masked man was back in his original position, but every single one of the pursuing thugs lay dead. 

The man lifted a single hand, fingers splayed, and instantly, all of the dogs stopped sniffing for him. In one coordinated motion, they turned and trotted away - back to the warehouse, no doubt. The remaining overseers certainly be confused when they returned with no masters and no runaway slave.

“Magic,” the boy breathed, knowing no other explanation for what he’d just seen.

The mask tilted towards him. “Not magic. It’s called the Force.” 

He gestured, and the boy fell in behind him. The spaceport was just ahead, and the boy was more than happy to follow his rescuer’s lead if it meant getting away from here. 

The boy didn’t speak until they were on the stranger’s ship. Part of him still couldn’t believe it - there had to be some catch to this. He’d never known anyone who did something without expecting payment of some sort. 

Voice trembling, he asked: “Why me?” 

“The Force guided me here. Your strength in it. I could feel you from three sectors away.”

The boy sucked in a breath. “You mean… I can do what you did?”

The man laughed. “Eventually, if you wish to devote yourself to the study of it. I can take you to the Temple of the Skywalkers on Naboo. But the choice is yours. If you’d rather me take you to the government seat on Coruscant, or try to find your family…”

The boy shook his head. “No family. Born here. Nowhere to go.” 

“The Temple it is. Master Rey will take care of you now.” The mask was still on, but it sounded like he was smiling. “She’s always happy to see another student, but _especially_ when I rescue them from these overgrown slugs.” 

So that was the catch - he was only being rescued because of this Force thing. But that wasn’t fair! The boy dared to snatch at the man’s sleeve before he could walk into the cockpit of his ship. “Wait. The others…” 

The man paused. “You were kept with others?”

The boy counted on his fingers before giving it up and spreading his arms. “ _Lots_ of others.” 

“Hmm. Let me see…” He tilted his head as if he was listening to a distant noise. “Well, none of them are Force-sensitive.” 

“Does that mean… we leave them behind?”

“No,” the man said firmly. He was quiet for a couple of seconds before he nodded at thin air, as if an invisible person sitting on the ship had just spoken to him. “I agree. Maybe that’s how the old Jedi used to do things, but that’s not how _we_ do things. We’ll find a place for every one of them, Force or not.” 

He stood with a sweep of his coat and started walking down the ship’s ramp. “Close up behind me and stay here. You’ll be safe. I’ll be back soon.” 

“Thank you, sir!” 

“Please, kid, just call me Ben,” the man laughed. Then he strode calmly down the dirty alley and vanished into the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for this fic! Thank you to everyone who left a kudos or comment on it. 
> 
> Prior to the TROS I was very much hoping we would get an ending like this, where Ben redeems himself and lives, but isn't exactly welcomed back with open arms, and goes out into the galaxy to actively do some good things for others with his second chance. Redemption followed quickly by death is the easy way out for storytellers, while grappling with what it actually means for a character to live with their guilt and atone they harm they caused is just so much more interesting, IMO. I hope to read other fics in the coming months that aren't afraid to address those themes.
> 
> ["Dying is easy, young man, living is harder."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0JR0ApUALOQ)


End file.
